


Every Breath You Take

by zade



Series: kinktober 2018 (the kinkening) [3]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Breathplay, Choking, Corsetry, Daddy Kink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, I always forget to tag that one, Kinktober, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Praise Kink, also, breathplay via corsets, tiny bit of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-27 11:53:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16218497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zade/pseuds/zade
Summary: Bellamy’s plan was actually working out pretty well.  Since he had suggested the arrangement to Murphy, the idiot had spent more time in Bellamy’s tent and less causing problems, which was a good thing for the whole camp and the alliance.  The biggest problem, so far as Bellamy was concerned, was just how fucking into Murphy he was.--continuation of Coming Up For Air, for kinktober





	Every Breath You Take

**Author's Note:**

> for shelbs!!! congrats on your interview
> 
> this fic contains: daddy kink, breathplay, corsets and orgasm denial, and a little hurt/comfort an is for day 6 of kinktober (daddy kink and corsets)
> 
> okay i really am out of breathplay puns this time (BAD TITLE GABE)
> 
> written in one day bc i hate myself. also unbeta'd so lemme know if you catch 8 million typos!!!

Bellamy’s plan was actually working out pretty well. Since he had suggested the arrangement to Murphy, the idiot had spent more time in Bellamy’s tent and less causing problems, which was a good thing for the whole camp and the alliance. The biggest problem, so far as Bellamy was concerned, was just how fucking into Murphy he was.

He had known there were feelings involved from the get go, but he was frequently astounded by the depth of his feelings. Murphy had big gross feelings too, he’s pretty sure. He hasn’t quite worked up to telling Murphy he loves him, but Murphy hasn’t even managed to say he likes Bellamy. Murphy did, however, like to sleep close to him, sometimes cuddle closer; when he thought Bellamy was asleep, sometimes he’d lean close, kiss Bellamy’s neck; twice he’d brought Bellamy food when Bellamy was late for dinner.

Little things, but maybe.

He bothered Raven about it. “I was so sure that we’d be done with this when you two got together,” Raven said, screwing something onto something else. Bellamy was not sure what but he thought it might have to do radios. “Or is this that dumb guy thing, where you can’t talk about your feelings?”

“Raven,” Bellamy started, but he couldn’t really fight with her on that. “I can’t make him talk about feelings.”

Raven rolled her eyes. “You could start by trying. Alternatively you could bother someone else. Like Murphy.”

“Murphy’s not big on talking about feelings. Or admitting he has them.” Bellamy sighed, and leaned heavily on the workbench. “He comes close sometimes.”

Raven sighed, too. “Listen, Bellamy, just tell him you love him, and he’ll get all dopey-eyed and everything will be fine. Now get the fuck out of here.”

Bellamy left, reluctantly, because he had a shift at the mess. Raven was right, he supposed. That night, when Murphy came by the tent, he’d tell him how he felt.

At least, that was the plan.

And then Murphy had to go and do something heroic and stupid and pull someone out of the way of a misfiring gun. No one had been shot, thankfully, but Murphy had hurt his back in the fray. Murphy had been sullen and uncooperative, especially when both Kane and Abby had tried to compliment him on behavior—and it wasn’t even like Bellamy could reward him with sex, because both Abby and the grounder’s healer had told him nothing strenuous until his back was healed.

So Bellamy tried to reward him with attention and some heavy makeout sessions, but he could tell Murphy was raring for some more. If he was being honest, Bellamy was anxious for more, too. It wasn’t just the absence of sex, although that was definitely part of it. The other part was the stupid brace that the grounder’s healer strapped onto Murphy when he wouldn’t follow orders and stay down and rest.

It was a medical device, but a medical device in the style of all grounder things, made of leather and metal, laced with heavy string. It trapped Murphy upright, hugged him tight, held his body unnaturally straight. It kept him from moving too quickly, bending, running, misbehaving. Worst of all, Murphy couldn’t handle the grounder’s hands on him, so every morning he walked into Bellamy’s tent (if he hadn’t spent the night there), looked at him shyly as he stripped and offered him the contraption for Bellamy to strap onto him.

Bellamy hated that he finds it hot.

Bellamy’s mom had read him at Octavia all sorts of classic literature, so he had grown up with a decent number of period dramas. He had a good idea what a corset was, and gun to his head, he had trouble separating that concept from the contraption wrapped around Murphy like a glove.

“Something on my face?” Murphy asked him, and it occurred to Bellamy that he must have been staring. Murphy smirked. “Or…something you’d like to put on my face?”

Bellamy’s brain provided him with a very graphic image of cumming on Murphy’s face, and it took a lot of will power to get his dick back in check. “Two more days, Murphy.”

Murphy groaned, and rolled his shoulders. The motion was constrained, limited as his chest and back were by the brace. “Thank fucking shit, I’m going crazy in this. I can barely fucking bend over.”

That visual was hot, too, Murphy all wrapped up and needing someone to care for him. He shook his head, tried to erase that image. “Keep behaving and I’ll give you your reward in two days, John.”

Murphy groaned again, this time more sexually. “I’m been so good,” he paused, looked around to see if there was anyone around them. There wasn’t; they were on clean-up in the mess and everyone else had left to go to bed. “Daddy,” he added in a whisper.

“Not in public,” Bellamy hissed. There was no one around to hear, but all the same.

Murphy winked. “Just keeping you on your toes.”

That night Bellamy helped Murphy out of the brace, rubbed Murphy’s shoulders. Murphy groaned, and the sound went straight to Bellamy’s cock. It wasn’t like Bellamy hadn’t been jerking off, but after a few weeks of incredible sex, going a month without had been like torture. Had to have been worse for Murphy, he supposed, who hadn’t been able to get close enough to orgasm without his back hurting.

They lay down together on one of Bellamy’s mats, Murphy flat on his back like he was supposed to, and Bellamy curled around him. He leaned over to kiss Murphy, and Murphy groaned, pushing up into the kiss as much as he could without straining his back. When they parted, Murphy was hard. He reached for his cock, but Bellamy slapped his hand down.

“Two more days, John,” Bellamy said as firmly as he could. It was cruel, but there was something about the way Murphy moaned and groaned and listened to him that made Bellamy diamond hard.

“It’s just two days,” Murphy tried to bargain. “I’ve been so good, daddy, I’ve been waiting.”

Bellamy kissed down Murphy’s neck, then replaced his lips with his hand, pushing down on Murphy’s neck with the space between his thumb and pointer finger. Murphy gasped, though Bellamy wasn’t pushing down enough to really make him struggle. “I know you have, John, but the doctor said a month.”

Murphy groaned and tried to buck upwards, slamming his throat against Bellamy’s hand and trying to find any friction for his cock. He made a small noise of discomfort, probably at his back, but Bellamy was not about to let Murphy hurt himself in ways that Bellamy didn’t want.

He moved his leg on top of Murphy’s thigh, holding his hips down, and tightened the grip on his neck. “Be good for me, John. Just two more days.”

“Touch me, please,” Murphy begged. His face was getting paler and his voice sounded ragged.

“I am touching you,” Bellamy said, smirking. “No strenuous activity, remember. Nothing that causes you to shift your back, or move your hips.”

Murphy groaned. “Touch my cock!”

“I can.” Bellamy kissed Murphy’s jaw. Murphy leaned up into the kiss as much as he could, choking himself on Bellamy’s hand. “I can touch your cock, baby, but you’re not cumming for two more days. Doctor’s orders.”

The frustrated noise that Murphy made went straight to Bellamy’s cock. “Please daddy, please touch my cock.”

Bellamy grinned, shifting on top of Murphy, so he was straddling Muphy’s hips but not putting too much weight on them. Murphy’s back was practically healed, but Bellamy was going to be careful until someone told him not to. He kept the one hand on Murphy’s throat, used the other to stroke Murphy maddeningly lightly.

Murphy kept up a continuous chant of, “Please, daddy, please, please, please, daddy,” over and over as Bellamy stroked him through his pants. When Murphy was as close as he could get without humping Bellamy’s hand, Bellamy withdrew it, kissing his face as Murphy panted and trembled. “You’re such a fucking tease, Blake,” Murphy panted.

“Two days,” Bellamy reminded him. He held Murphy down until Murphy was soft again, then wrapped his arms around Murphy and held him while they slept.

The next morning his laced the brace onto Murphy and had to resist the urge to pull it tighter than normal. It had somewhat of an hourglass shape to it, and Bellamy imagined if he pulled it tight enough, Murphy would be as breathless as he was with Bellamy’s hand on his throat and he wanted it.

He absolutely was staring, because once the brace was tied off, Murphy rolled his eyes at him. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Bellamy huffed, turned around to his hide his blush. “Get to work.” Murphy started off and had gotten as far as opening the tent flap, when Bellamy stopped him. “One more day, John.”

Murphy laughed. “Please believe me when I say, in the most literal way possible, I can’t wait.”

Bellamy spent the morning practicing with guns, which felt a little on the nose, as far as metaphors went. He kept catching Murphy’s eyes as he moved around camp, and every time their eyes met, Bellamy had to take a deep breath to steady himself. He knew it had to be worse for Murphy after a month of blue balls, but Bellamy wanted him, wanted to bend Murphy over and fuck him good—take care of him.

The day took way too long with Bellamy distracted. He was excited to get back to his tent, spend some time with his hand, or if he was lucky with Murphy. Seeing Murphy in that brace everyday had been a nightmare for his sex drive. He opened the tent flap and Murphy was there, standing looking somehow both bashful and excited.

He strode over to Bellamy, grabbed his collar and pulled him in for a kiss. He kissed dirty, all teeth and tongue, hands grasping at Bellamy. He was hard, Bellamy could feel it, and beneath his shirt, the boning of the brace.

“Doc says I’m fixed,” Murphy said, pulling back. “Said no climbing or like, flipping for a while, but I asked Abby about sex and she said yes as long as I never mentioned it to her every again. So fuck me.” Murphy leaned in and stole another kiss. “Please.”

Bellamy glanced behind him, and closed the tent flap tight. “Absolutely, baby.”

“Cool. Awesome. Great.” Murphy threw off his shirt, pausing for a moment to look self-conscious at his scars, like Bellamy hadn’t seen him shirtless every day for a month. “Want to get this fucking thing off of me?”

Bellamy felt his eyes getting stuck on the brace, and he could tell Murphy had noticed, too.

Murphy scoffed, covering his chest with his arms in a way that made him look young. “Please don’t tell me you’re attached to this fucking thing now.”

“I wouldn’t say attached,” Bellamy hedged.

“Then take it off me. Or at least explain what’s got you all hot and bothered about this piece of junk.”

This was easy. Simple, really. They had talked their way into Murphy calling him daddy, this should be nothing. Bellamy took a deep breath. “I want to lace you in it tighter, until you’re gasping. I want to fuck you with it on, with my hands on the laces tugging it tighter and tighter.”

Murphy’s mouth was open, breathing heavily from Bellamy’s words, which filled Bellamy with really remarkable amounts of want. “Yeah. Yeah, please, daddy.” He paused, then something dark ran across his face, and Bellamy was overwhelmed with the need to fix it. “Only.” Murphy swallowed, took a breath. “Only, I don’t want to be on my stomach. Don’t want you to see my back. Don’t wanna leave my back exposed.”

Bellamy hated that, hated that Murphy still felt that self-conscious, that unsafe. He had stopped having panic attacks around grounders, but Bellamy wanted Murphy to feel safe. “Okay. What if you’re riding me? On top of me, showing me how good you can be?”

Murphy had that soft look he got, sometimes, and he nodded. “Yes, please, daddy.”

“Take off your clothes for me.” Murphy stripped quickly, Bellamy following suit. Murphy didn’t ask this time, but Bellamy knew he wanted to hear. “You look so fucking perfect, John. Being so good for me.”

Murphy smiled, and it was closer to a genuine smile than Bellamy usually got from him. “Can I get a kiss?”

“Absolutely.” Bellamy pulled him close and pressed his lips to Murphy’s. Murphy moaned into the kiss, and Bellamy swept him closer, reaching down to grip the laces with both hands and give them a solid tug. Murphy gasped, but Bellamy swallowed the noise. “Go get the slick and bring it to me, John.”

Bellamy laid down while Murphy rummaged through Bellamy’s things. He was lying in a comfortable position when Murphy turned back to him, and he stood uncomfortably. “Do I just…what do you want me to do?” Murphy asked. 

“Come here, baby. Kneel up.” Murphy approached him skittishly, but dropped to his knees above Bellamy’s pelvis, right below Bellamy’s hard cock. Murphy was hard, too, and even holding the jar of lubricant in his hand, his hand kept fluttering towards his much ignored cock. “Hand me that, then lace your fingers together and keep them on your head.”

Murphy handed him the lube and scoffed, but he was still sort of grinning. He slotted his fingers together, rested them on his head. “You have something against me touching my dick suddenly?” He quirked an eyebrow, and grinned at Bellamy’s stern face.

Bellamy pushed himself until he was sitting up. “I want you to feel what I want you to feel. Keep you your hands where I tell you to, or we’ll see how long you can go without cumming.”

Murphy groaned and bucked his hips against Bellamy’s. He was still stuck straight with the brace around him and watching him shift his hips while his motion was so limited made Bellamy harder. He slicked his fingers up and quickly buried one inside Murphy.

“Oh, fuck me, daddy,” Murphy said, gyrating his hips and Bellamy stretched him, fast and just on this side of careful. He didn’t want to hurt Murphy, but a month without fucking him felt like an eternity, and he wants to be inside him. “I’m good, I’m stretched, make me feel it, daddy.” Bellamy hesitated, not wanting to hurt Murphy. “Haven’t I been good enough?” He sounded actually a little unsure, and Bellamy was almost certain it wasn’t an act.

“Of course you have,” Bellamy said, and slipped his fingers out of Murphy. He slicked himself up perfunctorily, leaning backwards and tilting his cock upwards. “You’ve been so good for me, baby, for weeks. I’m gonna make you feel so good, okay?”

Murphy nodded and moved forward obligingly for Bellamy’s cock, sliding down it slowly. He wobbled, struggling to balance without his hands, so Bellamy reached out, grabbing the laces in one fist and using the other to anchor Murphy’s hip. Murphy groaned, panting, and began to slowly push himself back up Bellamy’s dick. 

Bellamy had to close his eyes for a moment and focus on very unsexy thoughts because the weight of Murphy on him, the feel of Murphy around him was way too much and he didn’t want to cum before they have even really begun. He wrapped his fingers around the cords on the brace and tugged them once, then again. 

“Oh fuck,” Murphy hissed, and Bellamy could feel it get tighter because Murphy got tighter around him. Murphy was panting as the brace slowly lessened the amount of air he could get. Bellamy tightened his hand in the cords, unwilling to give up any slack. Murphy’s cock bounced, leaving a smear of precum on the brace, and he started moving more quickly up and down Bellamy’s cock.

Bellamy twisted his fist, pulling the brace even tighter around Murphy, and Murphy made a little hiccupping noise that Bellamy loved. He was panting hard, bouncing on Bellamy’s cock, fingers tangled in his own hair, and canting his hips towards Bellamy desperately.

“Tell me, daddy,” he said, breathlessly. His mouth was open and panting, and his shoulders we shaking with every inhale. Every tiny motion of his body tightened the brace, and he clenched down harder on Bellamy’s cock more and more the tighter it got. “Please?”

Bellamy gave the cords another tug, wrapping the slack around his fist. Murphy’s breath picked up, and he loved the fact that he could exert control on someone as wild and independent as Murphy, and more than that, that Murphy wanted him to. “You’re being so good for me.” He took his other hands off Murphy’s hip and wrapped it around Murphy’s cock, moving it in time with his thrusts. “Perfect. You’re goddamn perfect. You want to cum for me, John?”

“Yes, daddy!” He pulled it as tight as he could and Murphy whined, grasping his hair and riding Bellamy for all his worth. “Please, Bellamy.” His voice was airy sounding, and his breathing was labored, and all his focus was on Bellamy.

“Yeah. Yeah, cum for me, baby.” Murphy spilled across his hand, clenching down so tight on Bellamy that he came a second later, uncontrollably. “Oh, fuck, I love you, John—fuck!”

Murphy collapsed on top of him, still panting and with Bellamy still buried inside him, and it took Bellamy a solid minute to remember to unclench his fist. He pulled his second hand out from under Murphy and began the process of unlacing the brace. When he had loosened the back all the way, Murphy rolled off him, leaving the brace on top of him. Bellamy threw it off to the side and tried to pull Murphy back on top of him, but Murphy resisted, sitting and stretching his back, and looking at Bellamy suspiciously. 

“Are we not cuddling anymore?” Bellamy asked him.

The suspicion grew. “What are you playing at?”

Bellamy groaned, and pull himself upright. “What are we talking about, Murphy? I just wanted to cuddle and kiss a little and then go to sleep.”

Murphy scoffed, spitting out little angry sounding laughs. “And now I’m Murphy again.”

“Can you just tell me what I’m doing wrong so I can fix it? I’m so lost.”

Murphy still looked accusatory, but he at least turned to fully face Bellamy, so Bellamy opted to take it as a win. “You said you loved me. I thought you were going to try and help me, not lie to me, too. I think I’ve made it clear you can fuck me without pretending you care about me.”

Bellamy laughed, unable to stop himself, until he saw how upset Murphy looked. “John, I wasn’t lying to you. I said I love you, because I love you. You don’t have to say it back, or anything, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same things back—”

He watched the transformation go across Murphy’s face, distrust fading slowly to hopeful. “You’re an idiot,” Murphy interrupted, smiling a cautious smile. Bellamy gave him his best incredulous look, and Murphy rolled his eyes. “Okay, we’re both idiots.” He collapsed onto the mat, and scooted back until their hips were touching. Bellamy took the hint, lay back down, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “Say it again?”

Bellamy kissed the back of his neck, and Murphy sighed and melted a little bit into his arms. “I love you, John.”

Murphy sighed again, sounding pleased. “Ditto. Or whatever.”

Bellamy smiled. He’d take it.

**Author's Note:**

> hello i am gabe racetrackthehiggins and i am very sleep


End file.
